


Deepen

by Aenlic (Tale)



Category: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Genre: General, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-02
Updated: 2007-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tale/pseuds/Aenlic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A person may change, but what's stopping him from reverting back again? Albel and, to a certain extent, Fayt from an outsider's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deepen

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted @ http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3321311/1/Deepen

He's changed a lot.

There had been once when crimson eyes had not been so dark, so cold; there had been once when pale thin lips were not always curved downwards, like they did now; there had been once when his words had not been so harsh, so bitter...

I know it was back when we were children, _blissfully_ unaware, back when we were not soldier grunts, but proud warriors of the Arcane Dragon Brigade in our imaginations. We'd fool ourselves with the existence of our dragons, and we would share their names, borne from childish dreams - those were the days when we could joke about all the wars we would fight, blood we would shed, and lives we would defend until everything broke away.

His father died; Albel Nox gained an unsightly arm in place of flesh. Details were never spoken, but they were never needed when both arm and corpse were both burnt to a degree beyond the capabilities of runology - like this, Sir Glou Nox was buried, whatever pieces left of him, with honour; his son, however... It was then Albel started to change. Closed himself up, became more critical of himself the others around him. Harsher; stricter. He blamed himself.

Without the use of his left arm, and the failure of the ritual - Albel Nox could never become Captain of the Dragon Brigade.

I don't think he ever forgets once the wish to take a dragon into the sky though he tries. There are times when his eyes glance over from where he practices the sword, and there are times when he stares, hints of green visible in red eyes - there are times when he refuses company of my kind because I have partially succeeded in where he has failed.

Even so, he is not the kind to so easily forsake a friendship, albeit strained, for such a 'petty' matter. The day the truce was declared: Albel Nox, freed from the shackles that bound his limbs, but not the ones that locked his heart, came to me and demanded my aid. I could have refused, I could have directed him towards someone else, I could have ignored him - I agreed.

And then he went away on wings of cold iron and steel; left behind, I could only wonder. When he did finally return, red eyes were no longer darkened, but almost... gentler. Trusting. _Almost._

Where dragons had once reflected his sky, I now saw the forgiving green eyes of a companion always close.

Fayt Leingod's a mystery to me. They say he once wore angel wings, and destroyed the strange foreign steel wings (Albel calls them spaceships, but I really do wonder) with but a single thought. They say he knows more than he lets on, and that he's beaten Albel Nox many, many times, though the latter disagrees begrudgingly.

I don't know him beyond what the people say though. It's hard to know a person when your interaction is limited to simple greetings and one-word answers. He doesn't try to make me open up like he constantly, consciously or not, persuades Albel to; he knows many of my comrades have been slain, and he knows he's partially responsible- I do not hate him, nor do I blame him. Vox - _Captain_ Vox was a bastard I detested for his cruel manners towards a friend of mine, so it - it _didn't_ matter.

It didn't matter.

It did, to him, obviously. Jokingly, I had asked Albel once on what he thought of Fayt, when the rest of the assigned warriors were already ahead and Albel had lingered behind for a second too long. The answer, as amusing as it was, was insightful - 'a moron who thought with his damned heart'. Insightful, in a Albel way, of course.

But it was true - from what little I could gather in his words and actions, as he smiled and talked to everyone inside the party, it was true. I felt... perhaps... a little jealous... Just a little.

The dragons in my head remained, but to Albel Nox - though these dragons were important, it seemed that the smile of a foreign man would always be the closest thing to his chained heart.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> I had really no ideas for the title. I chose 'deepen', because of the fact that if something becomes deeper, it changes, but also remains as it was, in a sense.


End file.
